


Gold

by DarkStarlet



Series: Windows to the Soul [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Hospitals, Kate gets what was coming to her, M/M, Shock, hypovolemic shock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkStarlet/pseuds/DarkStarlet
Summary: Derek hears the machines in the operating theatre flatline suddenly, and he sinks to the floor, unaware of the howl ripping from his throat. Nurses run past him, a flurry of activity and shouting as they try to restart Stiles’ heart.





	Gold

Everything is very quiet. Too quiet.

It’s the kind of silence where you notice it sharply. Like when you dive underwater and things get distorted, only to come up, seeing friends laughing and shouting, not hearing a thing. Then the water runs from your ears and sound comes rushing back and you forget about the strangeness until it happens again. But it only ever lasts a few seconds. 

This was timeless.

Stiles imagines that he could scream until he tasted blood and he still wouldn’t hear a thing. He’s not sure if he can even hear himself inside his own head. 

Sight though, that’s working just fine. He can see his dad leaning over him, mouth moving, blood on his hands. There’s movement off to the side, out of view, and Stiles knows it’s Derek, somehow he just knows. Then the big dolt is there, pulling him from his father’s arms. His eyes glow, but they’re not his comforting blue.

Derek bites him.

Oh. That’s what the silence is. Pain.

Somehow, with the bite, the silence gets a little… more. Stiles wonders if he’ll ever be able to hear again, everything just seems kind of numb. He knows he’s hurt, very badly, but it’s so bad that he doesn’t feel it at all. Ah, he’s read about this. Shock. He’s in shock.

He’s not sure if he blacked out at all, but a few moments later there’s flashing lights reflecting off his Alpha’s eyes. Relief rolls through him slowly, molasses, thick and cloying. At least his dad will be okay. He sees his dad dragged out of view by paramedics, and Derek is forced to put him down whilst strangers crowd his vision.

Things shift again, lights much brighter than he was expecting. He thinks he’s moving, it’s hard to tell. It makes him feel nauseous. 

He tries to move his head, he wants to see, to know what’s happening, but he’s frozen. That’s more scary than anything else, being paralysed. 

When was the last time he breathed..?

Why is that so hard to remember? Breathing is easy, thank you medulla oblongata! So why does he feel like he isn’t?

Ringing, the faintest of sounds seeps through, his ears finally coming back online. It doesn’t get any louder, just an annoying buzz somewhere he can’t reach no matter how hard he tries. He remembers he’s paralysed.

Derek is there. He’s covered in blood and still more wolf than man, but he’s talking, maybe shouting, it’s hard to tell. Stiles stares at his lips in an attempt to read them but fails. As quick as he appeared, Derek is gone, replaced by a mass of blue and green blurs and the sun. It’s so bright. He likes the sun.

Sitting on the back porch of the Hale house with Derek has been his favourite thing to do lately. It’s peaceful, warm, and safe. He can almost feel it now, almost see it. Is it really happening? He thinks, maybe it is? Things are surprisingly fuzzy though, he’s not certain.

And then everything goes black.

 

***

 

Derek hears the machines in the operating theatre flatline suddenly, and he sinks to the floor, unaware of the howl ripping from his throat. Nurses run past him, a flurry of activity and shouting as they try to restart Stiles’ heart.

“Clear!” 

There’s a short pause but no heartbeat.

“Try again, Clear!” 

Still nothing.

Is this it? Did he fail him already?

“Clear!”

Thump-Thump.

“We’ve got him.”

The clatter of equipment covers up much of what the surgeons are saying after that, but Derek manages to suck in a few lungfuls of air. Not yet, hasn’t lost him yet.

 

***

 

Stiles can hear again. It’s low and annoying though. Not that faint ringing from before, but an incessant beeping. It’s starting to piss him off actually. 

There’s nothing else right now, and he feels like he needs to sleep. He doesn’t want to though. It feels like he’s been asleep for too long already. Straining his limited hearing, he picks up someone breathing quietly nearby, slow and steady like they might be sleeping.

Who would be sleeping near him?

 

***

Derek wakes as his body slowly slides forwards and down to the floor. He manages to catch himself on the edge of Stiles’ bed, and quickly rights himself.

It’s been two days since he was shot. Two days since his mother died, passing the title of Alpha on to him. Two days since he ripped Katherine Argent limb from limb and left her in unrecognisable bloody lumps.

It felt so much more than that.

His Uncle Peter had felt Talia die and pass on her power to his nephew, and he managed to pluck up the courage to leave the panic room to call help to the abandoned distillery. Apparently if it had been a few minutes more, Stiles would most defiantly be dead. 

Technically he’d died twice.

He’d stopped breathing in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, and then his heart just stopped part way through surgery. 

Derek had felt it both times, those fleeting moments where his boy’s soul was about to leave his body behind. 

The sheriff was resting comfortably in the room next door, well as comfortable as you can get with minor burns and a gunshot wound to the chest. Luckily he’d been wearing his vest, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was a bit touch and go for both the Stilinski men.

A hand on his shoulder startles him into a growl, but it turns out to be only Peter.

“You stink and you look terrible. Go shower and get fresh clothes. Come back here right after if you must, but do at least try to eat something. I’ll stay here, call you if anything changes and all that rot.”

“I can’t just-“

“You can and you will. Do you really want your mate to see you like this? Go home.”

 

***

When Derek returns three hours later, Peter is talking in low tones with a doctor outside Stiles’ room. They stop the moment they realise he’s there, and Peter simply gestures to the door.

He quickens his pace, worry lancing through him, and he almost rips the door of its hinges.

The bed is empty.

He stands there dumb, cold sliding down his shoulders and back.

“Hey, big guy.”

Stiles steps out of the bathroom, still looking weak, pale and in pain, but alive and awake. His hair is wet, and steam billows out behind him. 

Derek’s eyes flash red.

Stiles smirks and his flash gold.

He’s alright.

Everything’s going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone who has given kudos and bookmarked this short series! 
> 
> Though this series is over, I plan to explore this AU more at a later date, I can't say when exactly however.


End file.
